The 32nd Hunger Games
by setsailtothestreets
Summary: This story follows two young tributes in the 32nd Hunger Games and their fight for survival. Will they find love or betrayal? Who will be the winner of the 32nd Hunger Games? Chapters alternate between the two main characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Elody

I have always been different than the others in my district. Here in district eleven, one of the poorest districts, sixteen year olds are expected to be dirty, malnourished, and overworked; but not me. I have always had fresh clothes, enough food to keep me healthy, and warm running water. I also work fewer hours than the rest of the children my age. You would expect someone like me to be grateful, but I am far from grateful. I am alone.

When I was younger it did not matter, no one noticed that I was different. I had plenty of friends; I enjoyed working in the orchards with them. We would perform simple tasks reserved for the youngest workers, like inspecting fruits and vegetables for mold or picking seeds out of cotton. I did not suffer like any of the rest of them, nor was I old enough to see how much they suffered from lack of food. It was the best time of my life, not a care in the world. Then after the death of my mother, I became closed off, never speaking to anyone. After a while I learned how to cope with her death and I tried to rekindle the friendships I once had, but too much time had passed, and everyone had forgotten who I once was. They all assumed that I was just some stuck up rich girl who did not want to associate with poorer people like them. Now it's just me and my dad. The loneliness overwhelms me sometimes.

District eleven is toxic. Ninety Percent of the people here are slowly wasting away because our district leaders do not give them enough food and water, sending most of our agricultural products back to the Capitol. Every day I see people lying on the streets, clutching onto death's coattails, unable to let go. They are too sick to work, and here, if you do not work, you do not get food. I used to sneak food out to these unfortunate people but my father caught me. I shudder every time I think of that night and the beating I received. It is this memory that haunts my thoughts as I walk down River Street, their eyes looking into mine, silently begging me to help them. I turn away and walk faster.

I am coming back from my shift in the orchards. It is evening, the sun peeking over the horizon, saying its final goodbyes. I try to think of something happy to deter my mind from these unpleasant thoughts. I think of what a successful day I had. In my eight hour shift I picked more apples than I had all month and I had not spotted one tracker jacker nest.

My thoughts are interrupted though as I see her, a little girl, probably about seven years old sitting on the side of the street, close to death. Her big brown eyes bore into mine and I can't help it. I look around; there is no one else on this section of street. I quickly reach into my bag and take out the only food I have on me, a large loaf of bread. The bread is shaped like a crescent moon and it is topped with sesame seeds. I throw the loaf in her direction and walk away quickly, taking one short glance behind me to see the little girl tearing into the loaf of bread like she hasn't had food in weeks. _She probably hasn't_, I think to myself sadly.

"Hey you, wait a minute!" As soon as I hear the slurred voice my heart drops, someone has seen me. Sharing rations with anyone but family members is illegal. This law was made after the few rich families in this district were sharing food with the poor. The district leaders did not like this because they wanted to keep the poor dependent on them. I slowly turn around. Facing me was a peacekeeper. I freeze. He is in his late forties; he is also stumbling, obviously drunk. "Come here." He says. I consider running but know the consequences will be brutal if I disobey a direct order from a peacekeeper. I slowly walk over to the man. As I draw closer he begins to grin, I realize with horror that he recognizes me. "You're Jim's girl aren't you? What was your name…Elody?" I say nothing, he is right, Jim is my father. "You better answer me when I ask you a question, girl." I swallow my terror and try to act brave.

"Yes I am." I say without a quiver in my voice, I look him straight in the eye.

"I saw what you did." His voice gives me chills, he is menacing yet amused at the same time. His words are so slurred I can barely make out what he is saying. I decide to press my luck, after all, he is completely wasted, who knows what he saw.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I try to sound confident.

"You fed that girl on the street, don't try to deny it, I know what I saw." _Damn it_, I think to myself. "But seeing as you're Jim's daughter, I will cut you some slack. I will forget this whole incident if you do me a favor."

I brace myself for the worst, "What kind of favor?"

"All you have to do is come with me back to my place and…show me a good time, so to speak." As he says it his face is close to mine, whispering in my ear. He grins at me. Bile rises in my throat but I fight it back, I know what he is implying.

"You're sick." I spit at him and turn to go but I can't get away fast enough. He grabs me tightly.

"C'mon Elody, no one would have to know…" I try to fight him off but despite his intoxication he is very strong. Suddenly there is a commotion behind us. Someone screams and there are several loud crashes. It is too dark to see what the commotion is but it is enough to distract the peacekeeper. His fingers loosen and I wrench out of his grasp and sprint up the alley and around the corner. I hear him following behind me, yelling for me to stop but this time I disobey the peacekeeper without question. He keeps stumbling and eventually gives up as he trips and falls hard on the pavement. I don't stop running but I hear him shout something from behind me. "You'll regret this! I'll make you pay for this!"

I do not stop sprinting until I am inside my house, I lean against the door, breathing heavily. _Calm down_, I tell myself, _you're safe now_. But I can't help thinking that I am not safe as the peacekeeper's threat reverberates in my head. I try to reassure myself by saying that he is probably so drunk he will not remember any of this in the morning.

My father comes into the room, drunk as he always is when he isn't working. After my mother's death he turned to alcohol to comfort him, something most people in my district could never afford. His slurred speech brought unwanted flashbacks of the peacekeeper to my head. He sits down at the kitchen table.

"Why are you breathing hard?"

"Oh, I ran home…I wanted to get in some exercise." I finish lamely as I turn to look at him hoping he isn't suspicious. There is no way I am going to tell him about the peacekeeper. But I need not have worried because when I turn around I see that he is already passed out on the kitchen table, fast asleep. I sigh. I grab a blanket from the couch in the living room and drape it over his shoulders.

I climb the stairs, my hands shaking, trying to forget the events of that day. When I reach my room, I notice the calendar posted on my wall, filled with notations of my work schedule. I glance at tomorrow's date and remember that tomorrow is reaping day. The peacekeeper's assault had caused me to forget all about it.

Everyone loathes reaping day. It is the day that one girl and one boy, ages 12 to 18, from each district are picked to compete in the annual hunger games. The Hunger Games take place in an outdoor arena. The 24 contestants, 2 from each of the 12 districts, fight to the death. It is televised and broadcasted all over Panem. The Games make me sick every time I am forced to watch them. It is disgusting what the capitol finds entertaining. This will be the 32nd Games. Every year I worry that I will be picked even though the odds of that are next to nothing. This is because I have never had to buy tesserae, so my name is only in the jar five times, one for each year I have been eligible. Another advantage I have over the other children is my father's job.

My father is a spy for the capitol, it is the reason we are one of the richest families in the district. Every day my father goes to work in the fields or the orchards just like everyone else but he keeps his ears open, eavesdropping on people's conversations, and tries to become friends with as many people as possible. If he hears word of any kind of rebel uprising against the Capitol, he tells the district leaders and the rebels are executed in the center of the town for everyone to see. After the first rebellion of the districts against the Capitol, the Capitol placed spies in each district. I hate what my father does. I do not understand why he sides with the same people who starve most of our district and put on the Hunger Games every year. But whenever I ask him about it, he slaps me right across the face and tells me never to ask him that. I can't help but hope that maybe because my dad works for the capitol, I won't ever be picked for the games.

I sigh and sink into my bed, begging my body for sleep, for an escape from the nightmares of my life. My whole body racks with the sobs I have been holding in since the assault, and eventually sleep comes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Aiden

"Please Aiden. I'm bored, Can we take a break?"

I sigh. My little sister Kara and I are in the basement of our home in District 8 lifting weights.

"No Kara, You heard what dad said, we have to finish these reps."

Kara looks at me sadly with her big doe eyes, "Please." She whines.

I have never been able to say no to those sad blue eyes. "Alright but Dad can't know, Okay?"

"Yes! Thank You Aiden, can we go to the bakery again?"

"Alright but we have to be back at 5:30 because dad gets home at six." Kara smiles, one of her front teeth are missing and I am reminded of how young she is, she's only eight years old, a girl that young should not be training, Kara should not have to worry about the Games. She should be playing with her friends after school, not lifting weights and practicing weaponry.

My mom died in childbirth with Kara when I was nine. It was one of the darkest times of my life but it was worse for my dad. My dad was devastated and ever since despite my efforts to keep him grounded he has become more and more paranoid of losing Kara and I. My father is obsessed with training us for the Hunger Games. He figures that if he can't do anything to prevent us from getting chosen in the games he can at least do his best to make sure we win them. So every day after me and Kara get home from school or work we train. It's usually the same, a series of weight lifting, running, fighting, and learning different strategies. I understand that my dad means well but I wish Kara could have a normal childhood.

Kara and I race to the bakery. I run slowly, letting her win. I can hear her laughter all the way down the street. Kara has the same laugh as my mother, seeing her so happy makes me smile.

"Ha! I beat you." Kara taunts.

"I'll beat you next time, just you wait." I ruffle her golden brown hair, and she laughs. We have reached the bakery. I open the door for Kara and she skips inside. For some reason Kara loves watching bread baking so we go to the bakery about once a month. I've never understood how fascinated she gets as she watches the baker, Thistle Dunn, make the dough, roll it out and bake it. I find it boring.

"Well if it isn't Kara Pierce, my favorite customer." Thistle says warmly. He is in his late fifties, with graying hair and glasses. "Can I get you anything?"

"No we are just looking today Mr. Dunn." I reply.

"Well then you're in luck." Thistle turns to Kara and takes her into the back room where the bread is made. "I'm just about to start a loaf of pumpernickel bread." I hear him say as they leave, I stay in the front room and look around. I have nothing to occupy my mind with so it strays to the one topic I try not to think about, the reaping. Reaping day is tomorrow. There are so many people in District eight I know there's almost no chance of me getting picked but I always worry. I am seventeen so I've already gone through five reapings unscathed. I mostly worry about my family and what they will do without me.

Eventually Kara comes back out and I glance at my watch, it is 4:30, we still have plenty of time so we walk around town. Sundays are my favorite days because I don't have to work. Monday through Saturday I put in a four hour shift at a textile factory after school. But Sunday after school all I do is train. My father works on Sundays though so I usually end up taking Kara out to the bakery or just to walk around. While we are walking I glance up to see that several peacekeepers are trying to herd everyone into the center of the district. _Oh No_, I think.

"Come on Kara we have to go home now." I try to sound calm as I urge her toward our home.

"But why? It can't be 5:30 yet." She asks.

"Come on. I'll race you again." I take off running and she is hot on my trail. She is incredibly fast for an eight year old but I still have to slow down a lot so she doesn't get left behind. When we reach our house Dad is standing in the doorway. _Great_. I think sarcastically. They must have let him off of work early. He is angry but more relieved as he realizes we are okay.

"We will talk about why you were not here later but now we have to go. If we don't leave now we are going to be late." Dad takes Kara's hand and leads her toward the district square at a fast pace, I follow. I walk faster to catch up to my dad. I come up alongside him and whisper in his ear so Kara won't hear.

"Dad, what's going on?"

He looks at me sadly and whispers back, "They're having an execution." The disgust and sadness seemed to show on my face because he told me, "I need you to be strong, for Kara. You hear me?"

"Yes Sir. " I wiped my emotions off my face. Kara looked at me inquisitively and I smiled and squeezed her hand. It was just a façade though. I was angry, fuming with disgust at this common ritual but more than that, I was worried about her. Every once in a while the district puts on a public execution to keep people in line. These people are usually innocent, at least in my eyes. There crimes are always related to defying the capitol. The last one we had Kara cried herself to sleep, she was seven years old and she was forced to watch two men and one women be murdered by the Capitol.

Ow!" I looked down and realized I had been squeezing Kara's hand too hard.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it, "There, all better." She smiled which only made me angrier for what she was about to see.

When we got to the center of the district the peacekeepers were leading everyone near a big stage in the middle of the district. Two women were standing on the stage, one in her twenties and one in her thirties. They both had brown hair and long defined faces. They look like sisters. Our district leader, Mido, walks to a podium. He is tall and slender with blond hair and tired eyes. He speaks into a microphone.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, I'm glad you have joined me as we get ready to punish this district's worst criminals." I scoffed inwardly; he acts like we have a choice. He continues, "Both of these young ladies have committed horrible crimes against the capitol and today they are being executed." Kara moans and I take her hand. "Well let's get on with it then." Mido sounds happy, like he's talking about the district getting a donation of new textbooks for its schools, instead of an execution of its citizens.

Another man, a peacekeeper takes the first and brings her to the center of the stage, he raises a gun. We aren't supposed to talk during an execution but I can't let her watch this, not again. I bend down and turn Kara in front of me so she can't see the stage.

"Kara," I say desperately trying to distract her, "You remember the pumpernickel bread Mr. Dunn showed you today." My father shoots me a look that tells me to stop talking but I ignore him. I hear the first gunshot and I cringe, I recover quickly though. Kara looks scared. "Tell me about how he made it, do you remember Kara, you remember the bread he made and how he made the dough."

Kara, so easily distracted, tells me excitedly, "Yes, he made the dough and he rolled it out on this big sheet and…" She continues except she's too loud, people start looking our way and the nearest peacekeeper starts to head over. I curse myself, _what have I done? _

"Is there a problem here?" He has a lazy eye and a rough voice. He addresses me but my father answers.

"He was just trying to quiet her, she's eight, she doesn't understand." The peacekeeper looks at Kara and his face changes for half a second. What is that look? Could it be Pity? His face is back to the regular peacekeeper expression, angry and controlling.

"Well you should learn how to shut up your daughter, if it happens again, I'll shut her up." He turns on his heel and leaves. My father leans down and shushes Kara. We all three turn back to the stage just in time to see the second women be shot. My heart sinks, I got us in trouble with the peacekeepers and Kara still had to watch someone die. I can see her face, she looks shocked and sad, I can tell she is about to cry. I squeeze her hand, she looks up at me and I shoot her a reassuring smile despite my anger.

Mido returns to the stage. "Thank You, you are free to go, I look forward to seeing you all tomorrow at the reaping for the 32nd hunger games. " The peacekeepers usher us all out of the arena. I turn to Kara.

"You want to race me back to the house?" But this time she is not so easily distracted. Seeing her face breaks my heart. She is on the verge of tears. I feel so helpless watching Kara. She's so innocent. I can't think of anything to say to make her feel better so I just take her hand. My dad takes her other hand and we walk back to the house.

Later I put Kara to sleep in the room that we share, she's not crying but her face is sad and…angry? I've never seen Kara like this. "What did those people do to deserve that Aiden?" Her voice makes her sound years older than eight, her innocence is slipping away.

"I don't know Kara, I really don't know" I say sadly. I kiss her forehead, tuck her in and turn off the light.

When I'm in the living room my dad approaches me. I see he took one of his anxiety pills, a doctor prescribed them after our mother died and now he takes one every time he is stressed. He takes more than usual around this time of year, around reaping day. "Where were you today?" he asks me.

"Dad please, not now, I just want to go to bed." He ignores me.

"Why were you abandoning your training?" He is angry.

"We just went to the bakery Dad." I'm tired and I don't want to have this conversation now. I begin to head back to Kara's and my room but he stops me.

"So you think going to the Bakery is more important than you and Kara's training." It wasn't a question. "Do you do this every time I'm out?"

"Dad, she's eight! She should be out with friends playing, or watching bread bake, or whatever makes her happy." I sound angrier than I truly feel.

"You don't think I want her to be happy?"

"No I don't, you want her to be safe. She's not even old enough for the reaping yet, why can't she have a day off every once in a while?"

"She needs to train! If she gets picked at a reaping when she's older, I will never forgive myself if she doesn't come back to me and the same goes for you!"

"So you'd take away her childhood for something that might happen? You think Mom would want that?" We are both yelling now, too loud. Kara will hear.

"Your mother is the reason I'm doing this. I already lost her, I can't lose you and Kara too, it will kill me!" Dad is really yelling now, he looks deranged. I regret everything I said.

"Dad," I say softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just on edge because of what happened today. I know why we have to train, I'm just asking for one day a week off of training, for Kara." Dad is silent for a long time and I wonder if I should have dropped the subject.

Finally he speaks, "I will consider it, you may go to bed now." He sounds cold and I don't want to leave our conversation like this but the call of sleep is too overwhelming. I go to my and Kara's room. As I walk in I know that she heard us, she is looking straight at me, I can't read her expression. I walk past her and lie in my bed. I fell horrible and apprehensive for tomorrow but despite this I quickly fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Elody

I wake up and my stomach drops. Today is reaping day. Today is the day that I will be standing in the district center in a group with all of the other girls age 12 to 18 in my district, waiting to hear the two people who will represent District 11 in the Hunger Games. My dad knocks on the door.

"Come in." I say.

He pops his head in. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes." He grumbles. I can tell he has a hangover from last night.

"Okay." I answer as I unwillingly climb out from under my warm sheets. I'm used to the heat; district eleven has a warm climate year round. Warm climate, occasional rain, and fertile soil, it's all I've known. I find myself thinking about the climate of the arena. If I get chosen and it's a cold climate, I will not survive long. _Why do I keep thinking like this_, I wonder to myself, _I have five slips in thousands._ I get dressed in my nicest outfit, a simple pale pink dress. I put on flats to match and walk downstairs to my kitchen where my dad stands. There are only about ten two story buildings in the whole district and my house is one of them. My dad walks over.

"You look nice, kid." This sentiment is coupled with a pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, You ready to go?" My dad has on a nice suit, tie and all. It's odd to see him so clean and sober.

"Yep, let's get this over with." My dad leads me out of the house and toward the district square. The square is in the center of district eleven and now it is draped with festive banners and decorations to celebrate the reaping day. As soon as we get there I leave my dad and walk toward the left side of the square to stand with all of the other girls eligible for the Games.

District Eleven is also one of the largest districts, and our district leaders have always encouraged the citizens to have children. More children equals more workers so I stand in a group of about 500 girls. There is a group of about the same number of boys to our right. I am toward the front of the pack because I am older than most of the girls here. I look toward the stage. There are two glass bowls with little slips of paper on them; each has a name in tiny print scribbled on it. Three people stand on the stage. Our district leader, Grum, District eleven's most recent tribute winner, Ollive, and an official from the capitol, Cress Rossen. Now Grum walks to the podium and addresses the crowd. Grum is about 40 with broad shoulders and thick wavy brown hair. I've always liked Grum. Once, about a year ago, I had been feeding an old man who was starving on the street only to turn around and find Grum staring right at me. I was terrified that he was going to have me beaten by the peacekeepers or worse, executed. But he just checked to see if anyone was watching us and when he was sure there wasn't anyone, shot me a smile that instantly disappeared from his lips as he walked away.

"Ladies and Gentleman," Grum begins, "Welcome to the reaping of the 32nd Hunger Games!" Grum launches into a history of Panem and District eleven that everyone has heard a million times before. He briefly lists our previous district tributes that have won the hunger games, it's a short list. Grum mentions Ollive, our most recent, and then welcomes Cress Rossen to the podium. Cress Rossen has called out the names of the district eleven tributes for as long as I've been alive. He is a short, stocky man, with a big belly laugh that can shake the foundations of your average district eleven shack. I have never seen him when he wasn't smiling from ear to ear. He is dressed in the traditional Capitol style, which easily sets him apart from everyone in the district. Cress has Bright Yellow hair, a face full of makeup, and, I kid you not, cat whiskers. He looks ridiculous but he is dressed in the true style of the Capitol.

"Welcome, and thank you for inviting me to your beautiful district." He looks around and gestures as if he is taking in the beauty. I look around. All I see is dirty streets and old rundown buildings covered in brightly colored banners. "It is time!" Cress says happily. "I shall now announce the female tribute that will have the honor of representing district eleven in front of all of Panem. May the odds be ever in your favor." Cress walks to the glass bowl on his right. He swirls his hand around the bottom of the bowl and pulls out a single slip of paper. The air around me grows cold. Cress takes a dramatic pause and then reads out one name, my name.

"Elody." My initial reaction is shock; my name is on five slips out of thousands, how can I be the one that is chosen? Then reality sets in and my hands begin to shake. No, I tell myself, I can't break down in front of all these people, I have to wait, I have to be strong. I clench my fists, raise my head high, and walk toward the stage with confident steps. Cress begins speaking happily but I do not hear him. I look for my dad in the thousands of eyes that look straight at me. I cannot find him, where could he be?

How can this be happening to me? I can barely stomach the gruesome events that happen at the games when I'm watching them on TV. How can I watch them in person? How can I kill innocent people? I am jolted out of my thoughts as Cress reads the male tribute.

"Brandon." I have never heard this name before. Brandon walks toward the stage. He is a short, scrawny boy of fourteen. He looks as though he hasn't eaten in days. A younger boy in the audience is sobbing into his hands. An old man and woman towards the back of the square clutch each other with despair as they look at their son. No one cries for me. And then an odd thought occurs to me. Maybe it's a good thing that I am the one chosen. Anyone else would be leaving something behind: a family, friends, a life. I haven't had friends in years and my father didn't even bother to stick around after I was chosen. What do I have to lose? Maybe this will be one last adventure in a life of tedium.

I am vaguely conscious of a peacekeeper leading me to a large room. I am now alone. This is the time where the tributes say goodbye to their loved ones. We each have one hour. But no one comes. I stare at the clock hanging on the wall for 50 minutes hoping that my dad will come but knowing that he won't. Then someone comes into the room who I am not expecting at all. My whole body tenses and I stand up.

"What are you doing here?" I growl. I am speaking to the drunken peacekeeper from the night before, although he is now very sober. I glare at him, I know I shouldn't be, but I can't pretend to be indifferent to his presence.

"I just wanted to ask you a question." He has a grin on his face that makes me uneasy. He just stands there staring at me.

"What?" I say harshly, practically shaking from anger at the mere sight of him.

He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "Do you regret it now?" He says this slowly and with so much enjoyment at my expense that I have to fight myself not to slap him. And then the realization of his words sinks in.

"What?" I ask incredulously, "No. You're lying. No lowly peacekeeper has that much power." I am spitting my words at him now.

He gestures at a metal tag pinned to his shirt, it reads: Drynn, Head Peacekeeper, District Eleven. I just stare openmouthed. He rigged the reaping. I'm here because I refused his advances last night.

"Next time I tell you to do something, you should listen to your superiors, you stupid girl. Oh wait, There won't be a next time." His smile is the first thing that drives me to win the games. I will win and I will come back and rub it in his arrogant face.

"Well I guess the jokes on you then because I will be coming back."

He laughs, "A small, weak girl like you? You might be the strongest girl here because you are well fed, but the tributes from the other districts are going to tear you apart. But don't worry, while I'm watching your death from the comfort of my living room I will remember this time that we have shared together, I might even feel sorry about it." He strokes my face and smiles a seductive grin at me. I slap his hand away. "Ooh," He taunts, "You've got fire. That's good, maybe you'll last until the second day." He laughs at his own joke. I hear a loud bang that sounds like a gunshot, another one follows and then all is silent. "Goodbye, Elody." Drynn says maliciously as he leaves to go see what all the commotion is.

There is one more gunshot and then everything is silent. I hardly notice the gunshots, I pace back and forth across the room, seething with anger at the actions of the peacekeeper. I almost begin to cry but another peacekeeper comes in and leads me to a train. This is the train that will take me to Capitol. It will only get worse from here.

Grum rubbed his temples to try and relieve his headache as he walked toward his home. He tried to escape this feeling of guilt that enveloped him. It wasn't his fault; he couldn't have done anything to stop the girl from being chosen. But then why did he feel so guilty? It was these thoughts that haunted Grum's thoughts as he reached his home, opened the door and walked inside. Just as Grum reached to turn on the light switch someone jumped out of the darkness and pinned him against the wall. Then the light flickered on. The leader of district eleven surveyed his attacker. Grum was not surprised by his presence; he had expected him to come here but not this soon.

"Jim." Grum said. "What are you doing here?"

"You know damn well what I am doing here Grum. You promised me!" Jim growled. He was furious. "You promised me she would never be chosen!" Jim looked deranged.

"Jim, I am very sorry, truly I am, but it was not my call to make. I tried to stop it but it was beyond my control."

"Beyond your control?" Jim repeated incredulously. "You are the head of this district. What do you mean it was beyond your control?"

"Someone with more power than me contacted the capitol and asked them to remove the reaping restriction against your daughter. The Capitol gave him permission."

"Who contacted the Capitol?"

"The Head Peacekeeper, Drynn."

"Drynn? Why would Drynn give a shit about my whether or not Elody is chosen?"

"I'm not sure… Jim, shouldn't you be saying goodbye to your daughter right now?"

"I'm not saying goodbye to Elody because she isn't leaving! You assured me that Elody's name would never be submitted in the reaping if I was a spy for the Capitol. I have served Panem for sixteen years, I've kept up my end of the bargain and you damn well better keep yours!"

"The reaping has already aired live Jim, there's nothing I can do and you know that."

"I don't care! Just get Elody out of there!"

"I can't, I'm sorry. It is out of my hands." Grum looked at the clock on the back wall of his house. You still have eight minutes before the train leaves to take her to the Capitol, if you hurry, you can still say goodbye."

At that moment Jim pulled a gun out of his back pocket. Grum froze. "I already told you I won't be saying goodbye." Jim said defiantly.

Grum tried to reason with Jim. "Killing me isn't going to solve any of your problems."

"This isn't for you." Jim waved the gun in the air as he said it.

"Is that my gun?"

"You should learn to hide it better." Jim let go of Grum and turned to go.

"Wait! What are you going to do?" Grum asked, but Jim was already out the door.

Jim ran as fast as he could toward the room that held his only daughter. He glanced at his watch, he had five minutes. In five minutes he would storm onto the train and kill anyone who stood in his way of Elody. At last he reached the building where they held the tributes to be. He burst in, his rage was tangible, as though it radiated out of his every pore. There was only one peacekeeper in the first hallway of the building. Jim pointed his gun at the peacekeeper's forehead.

"Where's Elody?" He roared. The peacekeeper broke easily when pressed with the imminent threat of death. He pointed to a door on the left side of the hallway. Jim pulled the trigger and watched, smiling, as the peacekeeper fell, dead instantly. Jim raced to get to the room that hopefully held his daughter. Then suddenly another peacekeeper came out of the door on the right of him. Jim heard it before he felt it, a bullet right through his lower back. Every nerve in Jim's body exploded with pain all at once. He crumpled to the ground, clinging to life. Then another peacekeeper came into the hallway, Drynn. Jim's rage at seeing this monster's face gave him the strength to ask one last thing.

"Let me see her." Jim moaned. Tears were streaming down his face. "Let me see my baby girl, one last time…Please." Drynn looked down at this man; he looked so much like Elody. Drynn lifted up his gun, aimed it right between Jim's eyes and fired.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Aiden

I stand in my most expensive clothes with all of the other seventeen year old boys in the center of district eight. The 32nd reaping is about to begin. The tension is tangible. Some boys around me talk but most everyone is silent as we wait for the ceremony to begin and reveal our fates. I try to calm my nerves but it is no use, it is like this every year. There is always a paralyzing fear that tells you that you will be the one chosen this year; that you will be the unlucky one who will die in front of all the eyes in Panem.

Then the ceremony begins. Mido walks to the podium and begins by telling us all about the districts and the history of Panem, then he lists all of our district eight tributes and introduces our most recent, Whyre Primen. Whyre is a year younger than I am; he won the 31st Hunger Games when he was fifteen. Now he is sixteen. He has blond hair and green eyes; he is also missing a tooth. Last year at the Cornocopia, Whyre was fighting a girl from district five; she elbowed him and knocked out his left front tooth right before he speared her in the stomach. Then Mido welcomes Thrist Embermen to the podium.

Thrist is our district's capitol representative. Every year Thrist comes to district eight in his ridiculous clothes and make up and reads out both the male and female tributes. Thrist starts talking about the hunger games and something else that I'm not listening to, and then comes time for the reaping. Thrist reads the girls name first.

"Sasha Friar." I freeze. Sasha is in my class in school, she has always been very nice to everyone, she deserves more than this.

Then Thrist reads out the male tribute. "Aiden Pierce."

A cry reverberates throughout the square. It is low and moaning. I turn around. Kara has sunk to her knees in the audience. I resist the impulse to go comfort her, she looks broken. Dad is trying to help her back up and keep her quiet but she won't stop yelling. Seeing my dad's shocked, sad face allows me to snap back into reality and realize the magnitude of my situation. _I'm going into the arena_, I think. My thoughts are disjointed traveling from my family, to me, to flashes from previous games. I can't close my eyes without seeing previous tributes being murdered as if the backs of my eyelids are painted red.

I slowly walk to the stage; everyone's eyes are on me. I breathe deeply, trying to keep it together as I hear Kara's loud sobs behind me. I stand beside Sasha. _I might have to kill this girl_, I think, _this girl I've known all my life._ I tell myself that I'm ready for this, I've been training. I am strong and fast, I have a chance. I have to win for Kara and Dad. But I've never killed anyone. Then something else occurs to me. How can Kara watch me kill innocent people if she can barely watch the public executions? A rage swells within me at the Capitol as I imagine Kara sitting in front of our TV watching her own brother kill.

I am being led to a large room where I will be allowed one hour to say goodbye to my family.

"Your family will come in soon so you can say goodbye." Amanda says this. She is young for a peacekeeper and very attractive. Amanda has always been a popular conversation topic among the boys at school. Not that I would ever be interested in anyone from the Capitol but looking at her I can't help but fantasize. Not now though, there are only two people I want to see now.

When Kara and Dad come in, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. My Dad rushes up and hugs me.

"Remember all your training." He whispers. He seems unable to say anything else, after a while he lets go.

"I'll come back dad, I promise." And I mean it, _I'll come back_, I tell myself. "I love you, dad."

"I love you too, more than you will ever know." He smiles at me through his tears and nudges Kara forward.

I kneel, Kara is sobbing uncontrollably. "Kara." I say as I embrace her. I pull back and look her straight in the eye as I say, "Kara, you're so beautiful." I wipe the tears off her cheek and she looks up at me. I am in serious danger of crying now.

"Aiden, I don't want you to go."

"I know, Kara, but I have to. I'll come back though. I'll be home before you know it, Okay." She nods. I kiss her forehead. "Everything will be all right Karalyn, you'll see."

Then Amanda comes back in, saying that I have more visitors and Kara and Dad's time is up. I give them each one last hug, barely keeping it together.

Then my best friends from school, Lane Raymer and Timothy Ferris, come into the room. They both look upset but true to themselves they immediately begin making light of the situation.

"Hey Man," Lane says, "I'm sad to see you go but I just want you to know that when you get back, me and Timothy here will be expecting an invitation to that sweet new mansion of yours." Lane has never been particularly sensitive. He is talking about the mansion that the winner of the Hunger Games receives along with food once a month for everyone in their district.

"Yeah." Timothy agrees. "Listen Pierce, I know you. You've been training for this since we were kids, you'll be the best one out there, I know it."

"Thanks." I say quietly but their words don't console me. Others train for the games too; I won't be the only one.

"Time's up." says Amanda as she pops her head in the doorway.

"C'mon, we only got two minutes!" Lane says.

"Excuse me, but are you questioning my orders?" Amanda replies, in a 'how dare you' voice.

Lane looks like he wants to retort but he holds his tongue. "No Ma'am, of course not." Even Lane would not overstep his boundaries with a peacekeeper. I hug Lane and Timothy quickly and they leave. I am sad to see them go, this could be the last time I ever see them.

Before I have time to ponder this any further I am ushered into a car. This car will take me to the Capitol. This is when my situation really sinks in. I let one tear roll down my cheek in the privacy of the backseat of the car before composing myself. _This is it_, I think, _no going back now._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Elody

The train station is swarming with reporters and newscasters. All of them want to get a glimpse of the newest tributes. I want to spit in their faces, they disgust me, but instead I pretend they are not there and keep walking. I wish I could turn off this voice in my head reminding me what I'm here for, reminding me that I'm about to be surrounded by people trying to kill me in creative new ways the Capitol has engineered. We have just boarded the train that will take us to the shining city.

My breath catches in my throat as the train takes off. We must be going at least 200 miles per hour. I reach out to grab hold of something and find my hand wrapped around Brandon's arm. I am taken aback by how emaciated it is. I get a sudden wave of pity for him as I realize he probably won't stand a day in the arena.

"Careful." He says. His voice is scratchy and dry.

Before I have a chance to reply, Ollive appears and leads me to a bedroom. Ollive gives me a quick tour of the room, pointing out the bathroom and closet. Afterwards she leaves, giving me a pitying look. _Well_, I think, _Maybe there will be at least one person upset when I die in the arena. _

I inspect the bathroom. This is the first time I have ever seen a shower. I am curious but everything from this day has been so overwhelming, sleep calls out to me. But sleep never comes. I realize that if I don't get all my self-pity out now, I'll never let it go. So I think about how unfair it is that I'm here, and I think of Drynn the peacekeeper. But most of all I think of my Dad and how he never even showed up to say goodbye. As much as I tell myself I expected him not to care, I am honestly hurt by his absence. I sob into my soft pillow and eventually fall asleep.

I am awakened only an hour later by Cress who says dinner will be served in ten minutes. I begrudgingly get out of bed and look in the closet. I stare at the many clothing choices before me. Style has never been a part of life in District Eleven and it seems like a foreign concept to me now, one that the Capitol citizens obsess over. I pull a plain light blue shirt out of the closet and throw it over my head along with a pair of black denim jeans. Looking at myself in the mirror I am pleased that you can't tell I have been crying. I scoop my hair up into a low ponytail and walk out to dinner.

Brandon, Ollive, and Cress are already at the table. Brandon is shoveling food down faster than the speed of the Capitol trains. I walk over to the buffet and get a little bit of everything. Everything tastes delicious and I am caught up in the sweetness of some kind of pudding when Cress interrupts my heaven.

"In twenty minutes, the recaps of the reapings will be broadcasted so you two need to eat quickly, although it doesn't seem like Brandon will have a problem with that." Cress says looking over at Brandon, and then laughs a big belly laugh as if Brandon's malnutrition is hilarious. I have to repress the urge to smack the grin off his plump face.

In nineteen minutes on the dot, after I had taken great care to eat the rest of my meal very slowly, just to irk Cress, he ushers us off to the next train compartment over to watch the reapings. They start with District one and then work their way down to District twelve. I am very nervous after the reapings because about 30% of the tributes look stronger than me. Three tributes stick out in my mind, the boy from District Two because he is the size of a tank and looks as though he can kill you with one punch, the girl from District Four who looks like she knows 100 ways to kill someone with a knife, and the boy from District Eight who is extremely fit and well suited to the types of conditions we will be facing in the arena. This is unusual of someone from district eight.

While watching the reaping I realize again how badly I want to win this. I would love to say I want to win to help out my district with grain and oil, and that is part of the reason, but the main reason is much more selfish. I want to see Drynn's face when he realizes I won and I'm twice as wealthy as he is.

After the reaping, Brandon and I are dismissed to go to our rooms. Once there I take a shower, an odd sensation. Then I sink under my covers and fall asleep.

The next morning I get dressed in a maroon long sleeve shirt and black pants. Walking out to breakfast, something I hear sparks my attention. I press my ear up to the nearest door. This is the door to Brandon's room. He is singing softly. It is a song my mother taught me when I was young. He has an incredible singing voice and its melodic quality calms my nerves about the day I have ahead of me. I stand with my ear against the door, listening intently.

My mother taught me this song when I was five years old, five months before she died. It is one of the few things I remember about my mother. Hearing Brandon sing the song now, I begin to tear up. I wish I remembered more about her but I was so young, so frivolous. I thought I had all the time in the world to get to know her.

_Stop it. _I chide myself. I can't do this; I have to keep up a good face. How will I be able to handle the hell that is the Hunger Games if I cry every time I am reminded of my mother? I shake my head vigorously, trying to clear it.

Today we will meet our stylists. They will prick and prod us until they are satisfied and then we will be paraded in ridiculous costumes in the Capitol for all of Panem to see. All throughout breakfast Cress babbles excitedly about past costumes. Each costume is supposed to represent the tribute's district. District Eleven is based off of agriculture so most of our costumes are based off of different fruits and vegetables. One year both tributes were dressed up as giant carrots. They had on an orange nylon body suit complete with a green leafy hat. I hope I don't end up with anything too peculiar.

Our train stops at the Capitol. It is vibrant; glittering lights, bright colors. I get a headache just looking at it. We are led into a big building and onto an elevator. Eventually I find myself standing in front of my prep team.

"Hello!" one of them says cheerfully. "My name is Salvia and this is Jasper and Milania! We are your prep team!" Salvia points to Jasper and Milania respectively. Salvia is wearing an entirely bright purple wardrobe, from her hat to her shoes, and looking at Jasper and Milania I begin to realize she is wearing the most practical outfit of all three of them. Jasper is wearing a huge white wig on his head. The hair is overly ostentatious and its curls spill out onto his face and neck. Milania has chosen a feathery ensemble which probably has all the colors in the rainbow hidden somewhere on its surface. She looks like a giant parrot. There is an awkward pause in which they are all beaming at me, waiting for a reaction.

"Would you like me to applaud?" I say sarcastically. My tone is ice. I regret saying this as I see their hurt looks and try to make a better impression.

"Jasper, I like your…wig." I mumble awkwardly.

Jasper smiles though and seems not to have noticed as he says, "Thank You! It's vintage!" I'm not sure what he means by this but my compliment seems to have broken the ice.

They begin to wash my hair, nails, and body. I am so fascinated by their conversation I don't even remember to be embarrassed by my nakedness. The entire prep team is nauseatingly happy all the time. Every sentence they speak seems to have an exclamation point at the end of it. And they talk about the most frivolous things. They talk about their hairstyle and who does their nails. I wonder if this is what it's like to have friends. Maybe I haven't really been missing out on anything.

After they are done I meet my stylist. When he walks in I flinch. His skin is died red, crimson red. The overall affect is that he is bleeding grotesquely. It's official, I will never understand fashion.

"My name is Thio. I am your personal stylist. Spin." He commands.

I spin around slowly as he assesses me, for the first time today I feel self-conscious.

"Okay." He says. He gestures to the prep team and they leave the room. "I have created a gown based on the most important tool for agriculture, a rake."

"A rake?" I question skeptically. I would hardly call a rake the most important tool for agriculture, and how do you create a dress out of a rake?

"Yes, and I also drew inspiration from pumpkin seeds."

This addition does not increase my faith in the dress. Then Thio orders me to close my eyes and I do. The prep team returns and they pull the dress over my head. This process is particularly painful because something keeps poking my arms. Once I am in the dress I open my eyes.

I gasp. The bodice is black and covered in spikes that protrude at awkward angles. All different lengths they extend out the front and back of the dress. The skirt is made out of orange fabric and covered top to bottom with rows of pumpkin seeds died sunset orange. The dress is hideous.

"See," Thio says, "the top represents the tools and the bottom, the crops. What do you think?"

"Umm…Don't you think the spikes are a little dangerous?" I say avoiding the question.

"No, of course not. You just probably shouldn't sit down…or get too close to anyone." He says cheerfully.

"Fantastic." I say sarcastically, he doesn't catch my tone.

"Oh, I'm glad you like it. Now when you walk down the stage…" Thio continues to coach me on my posture, my walk, my smile, and my persona. Basically I should just stand up straight and smile a lot.

Thankfully it's a short trip to the stage because I can't sit on anything for fear of impaling it. Brandon is dressed in a strange one piece denim sleeveless suit. He has on a huge hat made out of straw and he is carrying a pitchfork.

"They're called overalls. Apparently they're 'vintage' farm wear or something." he says rolling his eyes.

"Well at least you can sit down." I say. "Every time I turn around, I'm afraid I'm going to stab someone."

"What's with the spikes?" he asks.

"It's supposed to look like a rake. Did you know the rake is the most important tool for agriculture?" I mock in my best attempt at a capitol accent.

"Of course, and they're also the most fashionable of all the tools." He says copying my tone.

I smile. He smiles. And then Cress is at our sides ushering us out of the train. First out, I walk forward and onto the stage.

Every eye is trained on me; I throw on a smile and begin to wave. Everyone is cheering. I can't understand why because my dress is so hideous until I realize on the big screen that a ways behind me on the stage the district 12 tributes have emerged from the train. They are completely naked except for a layer of coal dust coating their body head to toe. This apparently appeals to the audience. It helps that the female tribute is gorgeous which has several men in the audience goggling at her. Fine with me, I'd rather not have the attention. I reach the end of the stage where Thio is waiting for me frowning.

"What?" I ask.

"Your posture was terrible, and Ruben has bested me yet again." He is practically steaming.

"Who's Ruben?"

"The district 12 stylist." Thio replies scornfully, "You better hope you do well in training, because that performance will not get you any sponsers."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Aiden

I am sitting at the breakfast table admiring all of the delicious food. We've never had food this good back home. After I've stuffed myself to bursting my eyelids begin to droop. I haven't been getting much sleep. Sasha, who sits across from me, looks just as sleep deprived.

Yesterday was the chariot ride. I was dressed in a black suit with silver thread arranged to look like spider webs interweaved in the fabric. District Eight is textiles, many of which come from silk, hence the spidery appearance. Sasha was dressed in a matching black dress. The ride was tedious, I wasn't sure if I should smile or not which was fine because I wouldn't have been able to muster up a smile if I tried. Today is my first day in the training center which means I will spend the first half of it strategizing with Whyre.

So after breakfast, I am led to a long brown table in a small train car. This must be some sort of greenhouse car because plants grow all around the table except for a path into and out of the car. Beautiful flowers and trees adorn the walls. Whyre, who had been admiring an encroaching yellow bloom wrapped around a window sill, turns, and sits down across from me.

"Ok, let's just get right to it then." He says, not wasting any time, "Rule number one, you do what I say when I say it. Rule number two, you don't underestimate me; I may be younger than you and this may be my first year mentoring but I know what I'm doing. Got it?"

"Yeah." I say, unsure. The fact that Whyre has never mentored anyone and has never had any practice winning over sponsors, is definitely a disadvantage.

"Okay, first things first," He continues, "I want you to promise me you won't form an alliance with the Careers. They'll want you on your team because you're well suited to this, but you shouldn't agree."

"Why? You were in with the Careers last year." Whyre had agreed to join the Careers, gotten them to trust him, and then coldly executed every last one of them in their sleep. The thought of killing anyone makes me cringe but I have to admit, it's not a bad strategy.

A look of pain crosses over Whyre's eyes. "Because being with the Careers is all about mind games, and you have enough brute force that you don't need to go down that route. Now, I want you to join up with this girl." Whyre slaps a photograph down on the table. It is of the girl from district eleven, I remember her from the televised reapings. She is not particularly strong, and she has no obvious physical advantages that I can see.

"The girl from district eleven? Why?" I ask.

"Because you have one major disadvantage, you don't know how to live off the land. Killing people, won't be a problem for you but finding food and water will. District Eleven is agriculture; she can find you food and water in almost any environment you might encounter." Whyre responds.

"But why her? Why not the other district eleven tribute?"

"Because he probably won't make it past the Cornocopia, he's too weak. She is very well fed for someone in her district, she'll last longer. Besides once she shows you enough survival skills you can easily overpower her."

I shake my head, "That's despicable." I say.

"You have to play dirty if you want to win, Aiden."

"What makes you think she'll want to side with me?" I ask.

"She won't make it long without help from someone like you; if she's smart she'll take the deal."

One hour later we are escorted to the training center. It is a huge open room with many weapons and obstacles. There are several stations. We are escorted onto a large platform in the center of the room where all the tributes stand in a circle around a woman who tells us the instructions. We are not allowed to fight with any other tribute but we are free to go from station to station and practice any skill we want. I spot her in the circle, the girl from district eleven, she is listening intently to the woman's instructions; her eyes never leave the instructor. Until she spots me staring at her, I smile and she looks at me confused and then averts her gaze. I'll have to get her alone somehow, to ask her about the alliance.

Whyre told me to practice anything that looks unfamiliar to me. I have already mastered most of the weapons so I begin to head over to a station cataloging different edible plants. That's when I spot her; the girl from district eleven standing alone at a camouflaging station. I stride over.

"Hi. I'm Aiden." I say to her and stick out my hand for her to shake. She turns slowly, looks me up and down, growls, "Hi." And then turns back to her attempt at camouflaging without shaking my hand. I lower my hand and start again, "So, what's your name?" I ask her.

She turns again, "What do you want?" She asks harshly.

"I just want to talk." I answer.

"Well I'm not interested in talking." She says and begins to walk away.

"Look." I say cutting to the chase, clearly trying to make friends is not the best way to do this, I need to talk strategy. "I think we should team up together."

She turns, surprised, this was definitely not what she was expecting. "What?" she asks, clearly confused.

"I think we'd make a good team." I say.

"Why?" She says, eyeing me with suspicion.

"Because you are from district eleven, what I lack in scavenging, you have. And what you lack in strength, I have. It's a win-win."

She thinks for a second and then says, "Why don't you want to be with the Careers? You're fit enough to be a part of their alliance."

"The Careers are brutal and backstabbing. It's like walking on hot coals being teamed up with them; they'll walk all over you if you're not careful."

"Well, I can assure you, teaming up with me will not be a cakewalk either." She says pointedly.

"Is that a yes?" I ask.

"If I team up with you, what's to stop you from killing me when you don't need me any longer? We both know you can easily overpower me in hand to hand combat." She challenges me.

I pause, I can't pretend that this hasn't occurred to me. "You seem like a smart girl, I'm sure you'll come up with something." I say condescendingly.

She combats with sarcasm, "Not sure snarky is working for me Eight, why don't you try begging."

My eyes give away my annoyance and she smirks. I grit my teeth, "Please." I begrudgingly choke out.

"No." She says flatly and turns away.

I cut back in front of her so that she's forced to look at me. "You won't last a minute in the arena without me." I say angrily.

She looks me straight in the eye and says, "Watch me."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Elody

"Elody!" I look up. Brandon is calling my name, he wears a concerned expression.

"What?" I respond.

"Are you okay?" he asks. Brandon, Ollive, Cress and I are all sitting around the dinner table; it's the night after our first training practice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I've asked you to pass the bread three times. You seem preoccupied."

"No, I'm just tired, that's all." I pass him the bread. The truth is I am preoccupied. I keep wondering about Aiden's alliance proposal. It is a good deal, I could definitely use him; his strength would provide me with security if I were to meet a foe. But I know he must have some secret motive. One thing is for sure, if I were to join up with him, I would never be able to close my eyes at night. His mentor last year killed every last one of his teammates in their sleep, how can I be sure he won't do the same?

"Ollive," I blurt out, "can I speak to you?" I don't wait for her to answer but instead I rise from the table and cross into the next car over. Ollive follows me. She is only about 25 years old but she looks much older. Rumor back in the district is that her time in the games changed her completely. They say she used to be optimistic and full of life, somehow seeing the good in everything despite living in district eleven. Now she looks tired and defeated and I pity her. How can I pity her while at the same time aspiring to be her? Isn't her life the life I have to look forward to if I win the games? Training new tributes and watching them die year after year.

"Okay," Ollive begins while sitting down on a couch in the middle of the train car, "What do you want to talk about?"

I cut to the chase, "The boy from district eight asked me to team up with him." Ollive doesn't look surprised but instead routinely leafs through her bag and pulls out a photo of Aiden.

"I would have thought that he would be with the careers. But no matter, we can work with this. Did he tell you why?" She questions.

"He said that he didn't know how to find food and water and he assumed I did because I'm district eleven." I reply.

"Ahh, he wants you for the survival skills… not a bad idea, you should take the deal." She says this matter-of-factly. How can she be so sure? There are a million things that could go wrong with this plan, and most of them end up with me in the ground.

"Are you sure? He could tear me apart the second he doesn't need me anymore."

"So, be useful." Ollive instructs blandly and stands to leave.

"Wait! Just like that? You want me to take the deal? I'm stronger than I look you know, I can do this myself."

"No, you can't." Ollive says. Her complete lack of faith in me makes me want to scream. If no one else believes I can win, how can I?

"But…" I begin to protest but Ollive interrupts me.

"Do you know how to use a knife?" Ollive questions pointedly.

I look away.

"How about a sword? Bow and Arrows?"

I don't say anything; I have no idea how to use any of those.

"Take the deal." Ollive says authoritatively and walks out.

"What?" Aiden looks at me surprised.

"Are you going to make me repeat it?" I ask harshly.

"You'll join my team?" He asks.

"Yes." I say through gritted teeth. We are in the training center for the second time. I'm not sure why but I don't like Aiden and I definitely don't trust him. However, as much as I don't want to admit it, Ollive was right, I need someone like him.

"What changed your mind?" Aiden asks looking smug.

"Does it matter?" I ask, "We need to make a plan if we are a team now." I try to think of a strategy.

"We can't talk in the training center, someone could overhear." Aiden says looking around. He's right. The place is crawling with the other tributes. But where else can we go?

"There's nowhere else." I point out.

He pauses and must come to the conclusion that I'm right as he says, "Okay, tell me about your skills, have you had any experience in combat?"

I fidget, the last thing I want to do is admit that I have no experience whatsoever. I could barely get away from Drynn when he tried to attack me, and he was intoxicated. What makes me think I can do this?

After a long pause he begins again, "Okay, well then. You should run as fast as you can out of the cornucopia and I'll stay and fight to get us some weapons and supplies and then follow you. Once we regroup we can come up with our plan from there." I don't argue because not having to stay in the cornucopia for long is appealing.

"Fine," I agree, "But what if you can't find me afterwards?"

"Just stay close, but hidden. I'll find you. I better go now; we don't want to be seen talking any more than we have to. It could be a disadvantage if the other tributes know we're a team." He leaves and nerves overcome me, what if I can't even make it out of the cornucopia?


End file.
